


The Man In You

by kittenofdoomage



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: You never felt like you were much use at the end of the world, usually only managing to get yourself hurt. Stumbling through survival, you’re assigned the job of taking Negan his meals and being his caretaker. The former Savior was a shell of his former self - you can’t imagine it’s going to be any trouble at all…





	The Man In You

You didn’t know how long you’d lain on the mattress when you woke, staring up at the ceiling with the blankets tangled around your bare legs. It was already warm, the Georgia sun beating down through your window across the floorboards of the sparsely furnished bedroom.

Sighing, you knew you had to move. Today was the first day of your new assignment and you were determined to see it through. It was the short straw, you knew that, but you didn’t have anything else you were good at and no one else wanted the job.

The first day of being Negan’s carer-slash-jailer.

You remembered in the beginning when all there had been was running, when all you had was yourself. The urge to give up had been strong, to just put a bullet in your head and end all the pain and suffering. That was when you found the beach and Oceanside.

Before Negan’s men took control.

You hadn’t met the man himself. You didn’t know anyone who’d been personally killed by him, but you remembered Simon, the cruel man with the mustache, who’d ordered the death of every man and boy in Oceanside. You remembered the screaming, the blood, the cowering and literally pissing yourself because how the fuck could humans be so evil when there were so few left?

After that, you’d sworn to see Negan’s empire fall. You’d encouraged the women to join with Alexandria and when the war was over you had decided to leave, to go where the real work was. Before the apocalypse, you were a retail worker, and you didn’t have much to offer. After eighteen months of trying to help with construction on the bridge, Michonne had assigned you to Negan, deciding you’d be best utilized there.

You knew that was code for “can’t do anything else with you.”

Exhaling a heavy breath, you climbed out of bed with difficulty, scowling at the thick cast on your arm. Falling from the wall had hurt and the broken wrist was your souvenir. With the lack of medicines around, you were having to grin and deal with the pain. The dressing was even more fun.

Finally, you hauled yourself downstairs, grabbing a protein bar and greeting Jesus. “Hey,” he grinned, scratching at his beard.

“Hey,” you smiled back, “are you here today or -”

“No, I’m going back to Hilltop. Maggie needs my help more than you guys.” Jesus patted your shoulder. “Good luck today.”

You huffed, hearing the door close behind him. He didn’t live in the house you shared with six other people but he crashed there on occasion and he wasn’t a bad guy. It was just odd calling someone “Jesus.”

Scarfing down your meager breakfast, you jogged out of the house and headed across Alexandria to where Michonne had asked to meet you. She was waiting patiently outside the “jail”, sword strapped to her back, the same look on her face she’d had for a week since the bridge exploded.

They’d never found Rick’s body and you were amazed at the tenacity of the woman. She soldiered on, harder than before but she was determined to see her lover’s vision through. “Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, holding out the keys. “Did you get the notes I left for you?” You nodded, having memorized them the day before. Michonne smiled. “Trust me, you’re gonna be fine. Negan isn’t scary,” she tilted her head gently, “not anymore.”

“You said he wasn’t talking?”

Michonne shook her head, her dreadlocks gracefully swaying around her temples. “He hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since Maggie saw him. He’s eating, but he’s weak, so we don’t expect any trouble.” She shrugged, gesturing to the building. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Okay, thanks, Michonne.”

“Try not to break your other arm,” she joked, giving you a brief wave. You smiled and turned to the door, taking a breath. Supposing it would be better to introduce yourself, you unlocked the door and entered the room.

It smelled musty, like stale water and bare feet and the atmosphere was darker than you expected. Light filtered in through the tiny barred window at the side of the building and you strained your eyes to try and spot Negan. When you did, you blinked in shock, not expecting the ruined figure huddled at the other end of the cell.

Stepping further into the room, you left the door open. Negan didn’t react when you approached the bars. “Hi,” you squeaked.

Nothing.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued. “And I’ve been assigned to… er… well, look after you, I guess.” Curiosity dragged you closer, trying to see if he was even awake. His eyes were open, glassy, staring straight ahead. Waiting, you decided to talk again, although you were feeling more uncomfortable by the second. “If you, er, need anything? Like, toiletries or a drink -”

Negan shifted his eyes to you and your insides froze. For a moment, he focused, but it was gone before you could process it. His gaze went back to the wall and you sighed.

“Okay, well,” you mumbled, “I’m gonna go and get your breakfast.”

He didn’t say or do anything, so you turned, leaving the cell and locking the door behind you.

*****

_Three months later_

“Good morning,” you chirped, placing Negan’s breakfast tray on the floor. He rolled over on his bunk, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. Like every morning, you back away from the tray, turning to sort out the things you’d brought for him. Negan shuffled over and picked up the breakfast tray through the gap in the bars, returning to his bunk silently.

He didn’t speak while he ate but you did. You’d figured out quickly that he was less intimidating if you chatted away to him and he hadn’t told you to shut up yet.

It had been months since anyone heard him speak.

Things had changed. Alexandria was thriving. The bridge was on the way to be completed all over again and life wasn’t so bad, considering the world ended.

“So, I got you some clean clothes and a new toothbrush - I noticed yours was getting a little threadbare. Oh, and Mollie over at Hilltop is making these really nice soaps -” you held one up, “don’t worry, I got you a manly smell. Can’t really imagine you like the smell of lavender.” A thought popped into your head. “I always kinda thought of it as an old lady smell.”

Negan didn’t say anything and you kept your back to him, used to his non-reactions. In truth, it felt good to talk to someone. Apparently, the need to survive didn’t actually bring a renewed sense of social enthusiasm. People were just as weird to you as they had been before the end of the world.

“I’ve got no idea what’s for lunch but I think Daryl caught a huge buck so there’s venison for dinner.” Picking up the clean clothes, you turned around, unlocking the cell door and carrying them in, placing them on the small dresser he’d been allowed. Negan watched you from the bed, placing his tray to his left and pulling his knees up to his chest.

“I’ll just leave these here, I’ll grab your dirty stuff at lunch.”

You smiled at him, picking up the finished breakfast things. Before you could straighten, Negan’s hand darted out, grabbing your wrist. Terror flooded your veins and you froze, flicking your eyes toward the open door. He might not have been at his full strength, but he was much bigger than you and he could easily overpower you.

Negan swallowed, not moving as he gazed at you with clearer eyes than you’d ever seen on him. Slowly, his lips parted and his head bobbed with the effort of speaking.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

*****

“Go fish,” Negan drawled and you groaned in irritation.

“I should learn to play more card games,” you muttered, picking up another card. “Not that I’m any good at this one.”

He chuckled, lifting his chin. “Got any threes?” You sighed, pulling out both of your threes and tossing them through the bars. “I could teach you, you know. I mean, I was hopin’ for a round of poker but I guess we could start small.”

“I hope you’re not trying to push me into gambling,” you warned him, “because I think that goes against Michonne’s new constitution.” You didn’t actually have any idea whether that was true or not but it got a grin out of Negan. Scratching at his beard, he sighed and you frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Aside from the fucking obvious?” he pointed out, eyebrows lifting into his hairline. It was starting to grow back now, around half-an-inch long. His beard was getting out of control. His cursing had become familiar to you now so you didn’t scold him - you sat quietly, staring at him until he buckled. Negan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s almost dark.”

“And?” you prodded. “That kinda happens every day. Sun goes up, the sun goes down. Repeat ad nauseum.”

Negan chuckled. “I do love your sass.”

You shrugged. “I do what I can.”

“Dark means you’re going,” he pointed out.

Glancing at the window, it was your turn to sigh. “You’re right. I gotta go soon.” Your gaze drifted back to him, the frown back on your face. “Why is that such a bad thing?” The bars between you weren’t enough to stop his hand drifting through the bars, taking hold of yours and you realized what he was doing. “Negan -”

“You’ve been the only person I’ve had talk to me. The only person who treated me like a goddamn human being and not an example.”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “Exactly. I’m the only person. I’m your friend, Negan,” you whispered, “and I’m glad of that. But anything more…” hurt lanced through his eyes and he withdrew his hand. “It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Wouldn’t be appropriate because I’m twenty years older than you?” he leered, resorting to his asshole persona to protect himself. It was a common tactic he employed and after everything you’d learned about him in the six months since you’d been assigned to spend most of your waking time as his jailer, you understood why.

The man had lost the world before it even ended.

“It’s because I’m responsible for you,” you insisted, clearing away the cards and getting to your feet. “And like it or not, Negan…”

“I’m a prisoner,” Negan murmured, struggling up from the floor, his knee wobbling as he tried to keep his balance. “I get it.” He was limping when he moved back to the bunk across the cell and you frowned, taking hold of the bars and pressing closer again.

“Your knee still giving you problems?”

Negan glanced back, sniffing. Every single wall had gone back up, which meant he’d be an asshole for the next few days. Emotional vulnerability wasn’t a trait Negan liked to display, especially since he’d been on the brink of crazy. He had nothing but the room he was in and hated it.

But that was the point.

“You don’t have to be all balls and bravado with me, Negan,” you whispered. “As I said, we’re friends.”

“No,” he replied, fixing you with cold eyes. “You’re my jailer.”

*****

Michonne watched you from across the kitchen counter, her hands folded neatly underneath her chin. You’d left Negan after his cold words to you, heading straight for the Alexandrian leader to tell her what had happened. She’d listened and now you were waiting for any suggestions.

“He’s been in there for two years,” you rambled. “I mean, I get it, I do. He’s latching on because I’m the only person he has any interaction with.”

“Do you want me to reassign you?” Michonne asked and you frowned.

“No, I’m… I’m capable of doing the job. I just wanted to let you know that he’s being a little funny with me.”

The other woman got to her feet, walking around the island. “Two years in that cell,” she sighed, stopping by the refrigerator where a picture of Rick, Judith, and Michonne, was pinned up. Various drawings were all over the kitchen, Judith’s creations and some of Carl’s shared work. “It’s enough to drive someone insane.”

“He almost was,” you whispered. “I mean, he’s not… he’s aware he doesn’t have any power. He’s defeated.”

Michonne shook her head. “We can’t let him out.”

“Of course not,” you replied. “And he knows that.”

“Do you find him attractive?” Michonne asked suddenly and your face went slack, cheeks burning. “I mean, it’s not a bad thing to be attracted to someone but if you’re compromised -”

“I’m not, I’m not,” you muttered. “I’m not gonna go letting him or anything like that, trust me. It’s surprising enough I lived this long, I’m not gonna shorten my lifespan more than I already did.” Michonne smiled. “But unfortunately, the end of the world doesn’t dim an attraction to older men,” you admitted, leaning back in your seat. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m okay doing the job. I guess…”

“I’m glad you said something,” Michonne insisted. “If you’re happy to carry on with keeping him fed -”

“I am,” you nodded, smiling. “Honestly, it’s more about not keeping anything from you because I know you trusted me with this job.”

“I did,” the other woman confirmed, “and I can see now that I made the right choice. If we’re going to make our way in this world, rehabilitation is as important as justice. Negan sees you as a friend - be his friend. The only way we stay human is by acting human.”

*****

_A year later_

You’d caught Judith picking locks again. For a little kid, she was surprisingly bright and she was always getting into trouble she shouldn’t have been. The first time, you put it down to curiosity but the second you caught her in the cells, chatting to Negan like it was afternoon friggin’ tea, you hauled her off to Michonne.

Instead of obeying her elders, the kid just got sneakier. You knew she was still visiting Negan because he was a crap liar - to you anyway.

“Hey,” you greeted, wandering into the cell where Negan was pacing. “You ready?” He gave you a dirty look. “Look, if the idea here is rehabilitation. I can’t keep fighting you on this.”

“You’re taking me out like a dog on a leash,” he snapped. “It’s goddamn degrading.”

You jutted one hip out, balancing your hand on your waist as you glared right back. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to be a megalomaniac.”

If looks could kill, you were certain you’d be dead. You sighed heavily, opening the cage door and Negan sat down on his bunk, stubbornly.

“Look, we’re just gonna walk the perimeter. You’ve been in here for nearly three years, Negan. Don’t you wanna see the sun properly?” The wistful look on his face made your heart lurch but he didn’t move. “Negan -”

“Stop it,” he grunted, refusing to meet your eyes. “I don’t want to go outside.”

You narrowed your eyes, sitting next to him on the bunk. In the eighteen months you’d been doing this job, you and Negan had grown close. He was your friend, in a genuine way, even if the friendship only existed because he was imprisoned and you were only one he saw. Michonne hadn’t been by in months.

Aside from Judith, you were the only person in Negan’s world.

“Are you scared?” you asked and his head snapped up, denial in his eyes before words even left his mouth. “You don’t have anything to be frightened of.”

“You mean, aside from all the people who want me dead?” he drawled, leaning heavily on one thigh. His shoulders slumped. “Not today,” he murmured, getting up and walking toward the window. “Just… not today.”

You nodded, standing up, hovering across the cell from him with your hands in front of you. “Okay, well, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

His head dropped and he sighed heavily. “You’re not gonna just let me rot to death in peace, are you?”

“My job is keeping you alive, safe, and comfortable,” you replied, keeping your gaze on him as he turned. Negan’s expression was indiscernible and you remained on the spot when he moved a little closer, within touching distance. “And other people don’t know this Negan. The one who isn’t a monster.” He flinched but you carried on, daring to reach out and place one hand on his cheek. “There’s a man in you, Negan. He’s sweet and kind and I know… I know you won’t be in here forever.”

In all honesty, looking back, you should have expected it. The months after he’d told you he had feelings for you had been rough - he’d tested you every way he could and you’d resolutely ignored it. But now, with him right there…

Fuck, you didn’t realize how long it had been since you’d been kissed.

Negan’s lips were chapped and his beard scratched your chin. One of his huge hands was on your hip and the other was sliding around to cup the back of your head, pulling you further into his embrace. You moaned into his mouth, clasping his shoulders as he probed your mouth with his tongue.

Reason came rushing back and you broke the kiss, stepping away and touching your lips with one shaky hand. Negan didn’t say anything - he watched you, waiting for your reaction.

“I - I should go,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes and rushing for the door. Just about remembering to lock the cell, you left him behind, slumping against the door outside after it had shut. Your legs were weak and your stomach was churning.

Your panties were soaked.

“Fuck,” you hissed, regaining your balance and storming off toward Michonne’s house.

*****

_One week later_

It was raining outside and Negan sat against the wall underneath the window, his eyes shut as he smelled the spring air. You hadn’t been by in a week; some guy name Randy was bringing him his meals now and Negan had no interest in speaking to him. He behaved - no point doing otherwise - but all he really cared about was where you had gone.

The door to the “jail” opened and Judith Grimes, all four foot of spit and fury slipped through into the dark room. Negan smiled, lifting his head.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Was starting to think you’d gotten bored with me.”

Judith smiled, tipping her hat at him before taking her usual seat, cross-legged outside the cell. Negan moved to sit opposite her. “Sorry. Mom was kinda being a hard-ass.”

“S’her job, kid,” Negan replied, giving her a stern look. “And I’m a bad man.” The kid sniffed in disagreement and he chuckled. “You’ll catch your death going out in this weather.”

“I like the rain,” Judith replied. “It washes everything away.”

Negan nodded; he wasn’t going to argue with child logic. Instead, he asked her the question he hadn’t been able to get an answer for. “You seen Y/N about?”

Judith nodded. “She’s gone on a scouting trip to the city with Jesus and Daryl.”

He frowned. “Y/N doesn’t do runs. She hates dealing with walkers.”

The kid shrugged. “She said something to Mom about a change of scenery. And she’s been practicing her aim with the crossbow with Daryl a lot.” Unreasonable jealousy flared in his gut. Negan hated not knowing what you were doing in the hours you weren’t with him. “They’re due back later today.”

Something unsettling made its home in his chest and Negan hummed, staring down at his hands. Judith watched him, narrowing her eyes.

“You like Y/N a lot don’t you?” Goddamn smartass kid. Just like her big brother. Negan didn’t answer but he looked up at her, taking in the smile on her adorable little face. “She’s nice. She’d be good for you.”

“When’d you get so smart, huh, kid?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Grab those cards,” he pointed behind her to the table, “I believe I owe you an ass-whooping.”

*****

The herd had come out of nowhere and you were trapped on the balcony of the mall, looking down at the hundreds of walkers that swarmed underneath. You didn’t know if it was a safe place - the mall was huge and had hundreds of exits. There was no telling if there was anything waiting for you up here.

And it was going to get dark soon.

Rain fell through the shattered glass ceiling, splattering down onto the dead things below but they showed no interest, clamoring for the fresh meat they could sense but not find.

“Y/N!” Daryl hissed from the door of a clothing shop and you turned, darting toward him. A walker lurched out of a photo booth and hit the deck when one of Daryl’s bolts skewered its head. He grabbed your arm when you were within reach, dragging you into the store. It was darker in there but Jesus and Leon, one of the Hilltop guys, were both with him.

“You wanted a change of scenery, right?” Jesus joked and you fixed him with a glare.

Daryl checked the outside, seeing walkers starting to figure out the stairs. “We need to move. Fire exit at the back.”

You followed Leon, Jesus behind you and Daryl taking up the rear.

A clothing rail rustled. Leon jumped back, colliding with a row of coats and a walker emerged from behind them, snarling and grabbing at him. Leon yelled in surprise, then pain when the creature sank its rotting teeth into his shoulder.

“Leon!” Jesus called out - the walker was dead the next instant courtesy of your knife to his temple. Leon was screaming in agony now, blood pouring from the wound in his shoulder. Jesus helped him toward the door, kicking it open.

Four walkers were outside and they swarmed in - Daryl killed one with a shot to the face and you took out another. Jesus grappled with the third but Leon couldn’t fight his off. A crossbow bolt flew through the walker’s head, impaling it against the wall but its teeth were already glistening with the bloody remains of Leon’s throat.

“He’s gonna turn,” Daryl yelled, shooting the walker that was close to chomping on Jesus and you cringed, closing your eyes as you brought down the knife through Leon’s temple, the flesh and bone giving way easily as his body turned.

You turned, vomiting onto the tiled floor, barely having any time to recover as Daryl grabbed the collar of your coat and dragged you outside the door.

“That’s enough change of scenery for you,” he growled. “Get to the bikes.”

It was dark by the time you returned to Alexandria, carrying more wounds than you realized. There was a nasty gash on your forehead that required stitches and Jesus quickly herded you off toward Sadiq’s house.

“Daryl,” you called and the surly hunter turned. “I’m sorry. I know I was useless.”

“Not as useless as Leon,” Daryl shot back. “You got the job done.” He walked off, shoulders hunched, grumpy as ever. You’d expected him to be more vicious toward you - he’d never exactly approved of keeping Negan alive.

Jesus smiled, taking your arm. “C’mon. I think you’ve done your bit.”

Sadiq was more than happy to patch you up and when you were done, you limped through the quiet streets of Alexandria, looking up at the stars. Before you even realized it, you were stood outside the jail.

You’d almost died today. It wasn’t the first occurrence but this time, you felt more willing to fight, more like you had something to live for and not just surviving for the sake of it. The door in front of you shone in the moonlight and you could hear him inside.

Negan was singing.

The timbre of his voice was low, just like his deep growl when he spoke. He sang softly and you could already see him, sat on the bunk, inches away from the moonlight shining through the window.

You recognized the song but couldn’t think of the name. It had been a long time since you’d listened to music. Judith played a lot of it, the stuff her brother had liked but you didn’t really stick around.

Leaning one hand against the door, you listened, picking out the lyrics as Negan kept crooning in that throaty rumble unique to him.

“ _Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees_  -”

Your dad had played that song a lot when you were a kid. Eric Clapton, you thought it was.

Was Negan singing about Lucille? He’d told you about her. About his connection to the bat, now lost out there somewhere. It had hurt him greatly and while being slightly weird, you understood. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, everyone had done something to try and cling to the past.

Judith still wore Carl’s hat.

You had the pendant your mom had worn every day since you were a kid until she died. Memories. Negan had been a baseball coach once upon a time. He’d been a regular guy. “A regular asshole,” he’d commented several times.

Your hand was on the doorknob now but it was locked. Ralph had the keys. With a frown, you bent down, peering in through the lock. Judith had picked this lock a hundred times but you didn’t think you knew how.

Negan was still singing and you sighed, sitting down by the door, cradling your head in your hands and being mindful of the injury. Giving your job to Ralph had been a temporary measure while you figured out what to do with the kiss you’d shared with Negan. Michonne didn’t know what had happened but she accepted that you needed a break.

Footsteps headed toward you down the sidewalk and you scrambled to your feet, meeting Ralph’s curious gaze as he rounded the corner with Negan’s dinner on a tray.

“Y/N,” he exclaimed, keys in his hand, dangling underneath the plastic tray, “I thought you were leaving this to me.” Negan stopped singing as he heard the voices outside.

“Yeah, well, I’m back now,” you replied cheerily.

“I was just about to feed him,” Ralph shrugged, handing over the tray. You bit your lip, hating the way he spoke about Negan like an animal or a pet. In all of their efforts to remain human, a lot of these people seemed to have forgotten Negan was a human too. “But if you’re happy to take over the job…” He trailed off, shuddering.

A frown dipped your brow. “You got a problem with him?”

Ralph chuckled nervously. “Dude’s intense. I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long.”

You shrugged and took the keys, turning to the door with the tray balanced in one hand. “Thanks for stepping in, Ralph,” you murmured, tossing him a smile, intending to dismiss him. He shuffled on the spot for a second before he turned away and slumped off. Waiting until he was out of sight, you opened the door and stepped inside.

Negan was by the door, staring at you with relief plastered all over his face. You avoided his eyes and set the tray down.

“Where were you?” he asked quietly and you turned to the bench, sighing at the mess Ralph had left. He hadn’t dealt with any of the usual tasks required and it didn’t look like he’d done the laundry either. “Y/N,” Negan whispered, reaching through the bars.

You’d almost died.

Tears slipped past your lashes before you could stop them and you turned to Negan, lifting your watery gaze to him. He tilted his head, his hand still held out through the bars to you. Your fingers shook as you thought about taking it, knowing what it would mean.

You’d almost died. But you hadn’t.

Negan’s fingers were warm as your smaller hand slipped into his. The keys in your other hand jingled as you unlocked the cell door, slipping inside and right into his arms. He pulled you against his chest as you sobbed, clutching his shirt.

“I got you,” he murmured, one hand wrapping around the back of your head, his lips pressing into your temple as he offered the comfort you needed.

It felt like hours before the tears stopped. Negan led you to the bed, not bothering to shut the cell door; it wasn’t like he had someplace else to go. He sat you down, pulling you against his larger frame.

“Tell me what happened,” he encouraged, pushing your hair out of your face as you wiped your nose on your sleeve, sniffing and grimacing.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

A lopsided grin crossed his face. “Don’t apologize,” he murmured, wiping your tears away with his thumbs and you smiled weakly at him. “Spill it.”

He was quiet as you told him about the supply run, about the mall and the herd. You told him about killing Leon, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you confessed your guilt and how you’d been sick. That you felt completely useless and out of place in the apocalypse.

When you finished, Negan was still silent, watching you. You’d curled into him now, practically laying across the small bed with your head on his shoulder. “I’m weak,” you murmured and Negan stiffened.

“You’re not weak,” he insisted, pulling you upright. “You’re a goddamn badass. Just -” his lips twitched upward, “just not where it comes to walkers and killin’. It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. Not everyone is built for it.”

“Then what’s my purpose in this world?” you asked, almost begging. “I survived for a reason.”

Negan’s expression softened, his big hands cradling your cheeks as you searched his dark eyes for the answer. “What were you thinkin’ about when that walker had its hands on you in that store?”

The response slipped from your lips easily.

“You,” you mumbled. “I was thinking that I’d never see you again.”

This kiss was different from the last one. Negan kept his touch light but the urgency in his gentleness was easy to distinguish. When it ended, you didn’t want it to and you gasped, barely able to focus with his face so close to yours.

“Then survive for me.”

You whimpered a little, pressing in to kiss him again. This time, you moved, straddling his lap and Negan growled into your mouth, cupping your ass and holding you firm against him. His cock was hard against your core and you ground down against it, desperate to feel him.

If you did this, there was no turning back.

“Touch me,” you pleaded and Negan obliged, his hands pushing your jacket from your shoulders, not waiting a second before they were hauling your shirt up to paw at your breasts. The flimsy cups came down easily and you cried out as Negan sealed his lips around one pert nipple. One hand returned to your ass, encouraging your slow grind while the other teased the breast he wasn’t mouthing at hungrily.

It wasn’t enough. Nights of cold touches on your own body were only a tease of his actual touch heating your skin and you wanted to feel everything.

Slipping from his lap, you walked away, locking the door from the inside before returning to stand in front of him. “I want you,” Negan purred, eyes dark with lust. You smiled, kicking your shoes off and unbuttoning your pants. The second you kicked them off, Negan was hauling you into his lap again, dragging your shirt over your head. Your bra dropped to the floor, leaving you only in plain cotton panties.

Negan kissed you as if he could devour you whole, growling against your mouth, hands wandering over your skin until you were panting heavily. Reaching between your bodies, you pulled at the waistband of his sweats, dragging them down enough to let his thick cock spring free.

Impatience drove you to lift your hips, encircling his shaft with your fingers, shivering at the way it throbbed against your palm. Negan’s hand pressed between your thighs, his thumb hooking your panties out of the way, leaving you free to guide him to where you wanted him.

He groaned loudly as you sank down onto him, rolling your hips to take him entirely. His hands squeezed your ass as you settled on his lap, clenching around him to elicit a sexually-charged snarl from his lips.

“Like this?” you asked, unable to resist teasing him. Negan smiled, answering with a kiss that had you whining into his mouth. Lifting yourself until he was almost free of your warm clutches, you lowered yourself back down and repeated the action, savoring the way he leaned back against the wall, coming undone under your actions.

Your own climax surprised you and you arched on his lap, crying out in pleasure. Negan’s arms supported your back, his face buried in your chest. The coarse hair of his beard tickled your skin and you clung to his shoulders as you felt him shudder and release inside you.

Both of you stayed still for a few moments, clinging to each other, until your legs started to ache and you withdrew, murmuring an apology. You’d intended to get up but Negan’s arms were fast around your waist, pulling you to lay across him on the tiny cot.

“What happens now?” he asked quietly, kissing the top of your head. You sighed, stroking your fingers over the spot where his heart beat below the skin.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “I don’t know.”

*****

Morning sunlight filtered in through the window and you opened your eyes, sighing contentedly as you felt Negan’s chest rising underneath your cheek. Birds chirped outside and you stretched your nude body against his, prompting him to stir.

He smiled at you as you lifted yourself, reaching your arms up above your head, giving him a glorious view of your bare breasts.

“I could wake up like this every mornin’,” he muttered, reaching out to lay his hand on your waist. You smiled at him, leaning back over to kiss him softly.

“You do, dumbass,” you commented, sliding from the bed and padding toward the door, bare ass swaying as you grabbed your dressing gown. “Come on. Can’t lay in bed all day.”

Negan grumbled, pushing himself up with a yawn. “Yeah, I know, I know, work to do.”

Someone knocked on the front door and you glared at him. “Make yourself decent,” you hissed and he chuckled, purposefully throwing the sheet off of his body to bare himself to you. With a shake of your head, you slipped your robe on and left the bedroom, padding down the stairs.

Judith was already letting herself in, gangly long legs carrying her through the door. She smiled brightly at you and waved. “Hi!”

“Morning, Judith,” you greeted, heading for the kitchen. “Negan’ll be ready in a minute.”

“What about you?” she asked, frowning. “I thought you were coming too.”

“I am,” you insisted, smiling as she followed you through the house. “But I’ve gotta meet up with your mom first. I’ll be around later.”

Negan appeared, dressed and grinning, planting a hand on the top of Judith’s hat as he passed. “Hey, kiddo.” She scowled at him and you laughed. “We’ll see you later on,” he drawled, pulling you into a kiss.

“Sure will,” you whispered, patting his cheek.

Within minutes the house was empty and you sighed, staring out the window to watch them walk down the street.

So much had changed in three years. A plea from you and Judith had put Negan in your literal custody - you were responsible for him at all times and he hated it at first. But after a while, when it became apparent he was determined not to let you down or lose you, everyone stopped worrying.

Today, you were going out to the orchard to harvest with everyone else. First, there was something important to deal with.

Michonne knocked on the door a few moments after you’d finished getting dressed and you answered, smiling at her. “Ready to go?” she asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, following her out the door, not bothering to lock it - no one needed to nowadays. “I’m kinda nervous.”

The other woman smiled. “You’re gonna be fine. Sadiq’s a great doctor.” She paused, giving you a sideways glance. “Have you told him yet?”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I’m… well, I don’t know what to think about it. I don’t even know how to start telling him.” Michonne nodded, looking up at the bright sky and you followed her gaze, spotting a couple of black shadows flying against the sun. “It’s a nice day for the harvest.”

“It is,” Michonne agreed, grinning as you came to a stop outside Sadiq’s office. She waited for you to enter first and Sadiq was already waiting. The machine beside him was being run from a generator; Michonne had asked the Hilltop if they could borrow the ultrasound specially as they did with all expectant mothers in Alexandria.

The gel was cold as it dribbled onto your lower belly and you waited with bated breath as Sadiq moved the wand over your flat stomach.

“There it is,” he murmured, pointing at the screen where you could see absolutely nothing. He pressed a few buttons and smiled. “Looks like your estimate was right; you’re about three months along. You’ll start showing soon.”

The smile on your face was wide enough to hurt but you couldn’t stop. Michonne took your hand, squeezing it and you were suddenly intensely grateful for the friendship you’d built with her, despite her misgivings over your relationship with Negan.

Sadiq cleared up as you wiped yourself clean of the gel. There wasn’t a printer so you couldn’t keep a photo of the child you carried in your belly but you’d seen it and knew it was there. Now, you just had to figure out how to tell Negan.

“We’re gonna miss all the fun,” Michonne scolded, tugging you along. “Come on!”

She wasn’t the only excited one. The harvest had become a tradition where the whole community came together and gathered the products of their labor. Later, there would a bonfire and a wild boar roast - Jesus had caught it two days before.

You found Negan with Judith, letting the kid sit on his shoulders to reach the apples higher up in the tree. “Were we running short on ladders?” you quipped and Negan laughed, letting Judith down when she tapped his shoulder.

“Wondered where you’d gotten to,” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss you. Michonne and Judith moved away and you smiled up at Negan, placing one hand on his cheek over the scruff he refused to shave off. “Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, resolving to tell him later, in private. “Everything’s perfect.”


End file.
